Secret Vows (Hideaway (Kimani)) (19 page)

“You do?”

“Yes. My father tried something similar with my oldest sister’s fiancé minutes before the wedding was about to begin. He’d asked Merrick to come to the library where he and his brothers were waiting. I believe Dad had a temporary lapse in common sense when he threatened a man who’d worked for the CIA as a covert operative.”

“What did he say?”

“He told Merrick he was only going to warn him once. He wanted him to protect Alexandra with his life, and if he failed, then look for her father to come after him.”

“How did Merrick take this obvious threat?”

Jason chuckled softly, his fingers rubbing the soft curls grazing his shoulder. “Merrick never batted an eye when he told his future father-in-law that the minute Alex becomes his wife, he was responsible for protecting her. Then he went on to say he may not have as much money as Alex, but he could support her and the children they would have. He also said he’d signed up to go back to the CIA—when he’d promised himself he never would—because he had a wife and family to support. He wasn’t going back as an operative but as a trainer. That’s when everyone realized Dad was concerned about Merrick’s lack of employment. We ragged him about that for days.”

“So it wasn’t about protection but money.”

He nodded. “More or less.”

Tilting her chin, Greer stared up at the man she loved and respected. She knew her father could be intimidating—on the phone
and
in person—yet Jason hadn’t backed down. He’d gone so far as to demand a face-to-face sit-down. She smiled when she realized she was going to have her own personal superhero.

“Speaking of money. Are you going to want a prenuptial agreement?”

Jason’s expression changed as if he were a snake shedding its skin. “If I wanted one, would you sign it?”

“Of course,” Greer said without hesitating. “I don’t want or need your money.”

“You don’t want or need money, but I want and need you. The Coles are unique wherein there’s never been a prenup or a divorce once we marry.”

“So you guys are known for having perfect marriages?”

“We’re far from perfect, babe. My grandfather cheated on his wife, and the result was an illegitimate child that took him four decades to acknowledge. My uncle Martin acknowledged Joshua as his brother long before my dad or his sisters. They felt if they acknowledged him, then they were being disloyal to their mother.”

“What happened to Joshua’s mother?”

“She married my grandfather’s business partner because in those days an unwed teenage mother would’ve been ostracized regardless of their social status. Teresa married Everett Kirkland, gave birth to my uncle, but their marriage was fraught with violence and alienation. Although Teresa had married Everett, she was still in love with Samuel.”

Thoroughly engrossed in the story, Greer asked, “Was he in love with Teresa?”

“He admitted to me a part of him would always love Teresa because she needed his protection. She was the daughter of immigrant parents who had to flee Cuba because of her father’s political opposition to the government at that time. They were very poor, and Teresa was studying to become a nurse when she came to work for Cole-Diz as a part-time translator. She and Samuel had a brief affair, and she found herself pregnant at the same time
Abuela
was pregnant with her third child. When Teresa flaunted the fact she was carrying her boss’s baby, all hell broke loose. I’m certain my grandmother would’ve divorced my grandfather if divorce at that time hadn’t been such a stigma. Here she was in a foreign country, married to a man who not only controlled his money but also hers. If that had occurred today, there’s no doubt she would’ve divorced him and wound up with a tremendous settlement.”

“Did she stay with him out of necessity or because she loved him?”

“I think it was both. Someone overheard her saying she would never divorce Sammy because then he and that
puta
would get together. But she also loved her husband. He’d become her rescuer and her protector. He had saved her from an arranged marriage, and his ultimate wealth elevated her to the personification of Cuban-American elegance and sophistication. Although Grandpa wasn’t the perfect husband, he
was
a good father.”

“How did he reconcile with Teresa’s son?”

“Grandpa suffered a stroke and even his doctors didn’t expect him to survive, or even if he did, that he would never speak again. But he did. Uncle Josh sat at his bedside until he came out of the coma. What happened in that hospital room had to have changed both of them. There were times when Grandpa called Joshua
son
and he in return called him
Father
.”

Greer closed her eyes. “I know of family feuds that have gone on for generations.”

“Nicholas’s mother and his grandmother have been at each other’s throats for years. Nichola never learned to cook or speak Spanish, and Nancy reminds her of this every chance she gets.”

Shifting in a more comfortable position, Greer opened her eyes. “Why didn’t she take cooking lessons?”

“Why should she when she employed a live-in cook?” Nichola is a true diva. Her father and brothers spoiled her, and her husband continued the tradition. You’ll get to see her at the wedding.”

“What about her mother-in-law?”

“You won’t get to see the entire clan until Christmas. Between my aunts and uncles, their children, grandchildren and now great-grandchildren, there have to be more than a hundred of us.”

“Where does everyone stay?”

“Everywhere. There are twenty-four rooms in the house where my father grew up. My aunts open their homes to accommodate at least forty folks between them. I have cousins in Fort Lauderdale and Miami. It’s less than seventy-five miles between Miami and West Palm. My parents’ house in Boca Raton is even closer, so they are able to put up many of the out-of-towners.”

“It must be nice having a large family.”

Jason heard the wistfulness in Greer’s voice. “It does have its advantages. I take it you have a small family?”

“Very small. Both my parents had only one sibling. My father lost his parents at an early age, and his grandmother raised him. I have cousins in Maryland and a few in Oklahoma, but those are the only ones I know about.”

“I suggest you get in touch with them because I’d like to invite them to our wedding.”

“Will they also be invited to your weeklong Christmas to New Year’s family reunion?”

“Of course. Your family will become my family and vice versa.”

“Are the weddings usually lavish celebrity-like affairs?”

“No. They’re always private. The family compound is patrolled by security around the clock, and no one will be permitted to attend unless they’re invited. Their RSVP will include their name and vehicle’s license plate number. So we don’t have to worry about wedding crashers. Nicholas’s horse farm also has what I consider extremely good security.”

“Have you ever been there?”

Jason nodded. “Once. It’s beautiful. He breeds Arabians, and even though I’m not into horses, I find them to be magnificent creatures.”

“I love riding horses.”

Reaching down, Jason pulled one of her legs over his. “You ride, boat, swim and fly-fish. What else do you do?”

“I used to go hunting with my uncle.”

“Did you ever kill anything?” he asked.

“No. One time I had a buck with a full rack in my crosshairs, but I just couldn’t pull the trigger. I knew the meat and hide wouldn’t go to waste, but all I could think about was his head ending up on someone’s wall. So I let him go.”

“Good for you.”

Greer gave Jason a direct stare. “Are you an animal rights’ advocate?”

“No. It’s just that I don’t believe in killing an animal for sport.”

They continued to talk about different topics until Greer felt her eyelids grow heavy. She emitted one sigh and fell asleep.

Sleep wasn’t as kind for Jason. He lay with Greer cradled in his arms, feeling the warmth of her body. Why her? he mused. Why was he planning to spend the rest of his life with her and not some other woman? And how had he fallen so quickly and so hard for her when it’d never been that way before?

His brother and cousins had always teased him because, as a musician, he should’ve lived the rock star life, when in fact he’d shunned it. Jason had always been more comfortable remaining behind the scene than front and center. The only time he stood still long enough to pose for photographs was when he and Ana attended music award ceremonies.

A wry smile twisted his mouth. His twin and business partner was now a happily married woman who had plans to make him an uncle for the sixth time. Although he and Ana were born only minutes apart, he’d always regarded her as his little sister. His little sister was married to her U.S. marshal husband, and she had told Jason that, if she’d known being married was so wonderful, she would’ve tried it years before. Then Jason had to remind her it wasn’t about being married. It was about who she’d chosen as her husband.

It was the same with him. He’d found himself so relaxed and comfortable around Greer that he could be himself. That’s all he had wanted to be since he was lectured about the responsibility of being a Cole.

Greer stirred in her sleep, pulling out his arms to lie on her back. His gaze was drawn to the soft swell of breasts in the revealing nightgown and Jason hardened quickly. He wanted to wake Greer and make love to her but realized that wasn’t possible. Although she’d said he hadn’t hurt her, he noticed she’d moved more gingerly than normally. He would wait until her tender flesh healed before they made love again. After all, he’d professed to be a patient man.

Chapter 16

Los Angeles

W
ebb sat on a director’s chair in the darkened warehouse, watching the video shoot. His lip curled into a sneer when he saw three half-naked women rub their breasts and crotches suggestively against the bare-chested singer lip-synching lyrics about what he wanted them to do to him. He grabbed the head of one, holding her head to his belly as he gyrated against her face.

Webb closed his eyes because he knew, if he continued to watch, he wouldn’t be able to stop the rage roiling inside him like a dust storm. If he had a daughter, and he knew he would never have one, he would beat her senseless if she became a video ho.

The cell phone in his breast pocket rang, and he opened his eyes, reaching for it. “Yes, Monk.”

“Stop! Everyone stop!” the director shouted. “Whose cell is that? Didn’t you read the sign about turning off your phones?” His tirade continued as he spewed a litany of curses. He stopped abruptly when Webb approached him, one hand going to his throat.

“If you don’t shut up, I’ll snap your neck like a pencil. In case it’s slipped your mind, I’m paying for this space and everything and everyone in it. If I hear words like that coming out of your mouth again, I’ll make certain you won’t be able to get a job photographing a kiddie party at Chuck E. Cheese.” Shaking the trembling man, he flung him aside like a rag doll.

Webb walked over to an area of the warehouse where he could continue his telephone conversation. “Sorry about that.”

“No problem. I found him, but there’s a slight problem. He lives in a place where it’s virtually impossible to breach. In order to gain access to the residents, you have to put your name on a list, and then you have to leave your driver’s license. That means we’re going to try and get to him outside the fortress. I have someone asking around about him and, once we’re able to pinpoint his whereabouts, you’ll get what you want.”

Webb smiled. “Thanks for the update.”

“Just have my package ready when I call you again.”

“That won’t be a problem.” Webb wanted to tell Monk that the balance of his payment was in his safe, but he wouldn’t get it until he had absolute proof that Jason Cole was dead. Returning the phone to his pocket, he sat down in the chair he’d vacated. Then with a barely perceptible wave of his hand, he motioned for the director to begin filming again.

The song track started up again and so did the women with their staged gyrations. Didn’t they know how ridiculous they looked? If he were shooting an adult movie, Webb wouldn’t hire them even if they’d agree to perform for free. No one affiliated with Slow Wyne knew the clock was ticking, ticking down to the time when the label would cease to exist.

Mission Grove

Greer sat at a table in the empty restaurant with Bobby, Andrew, Danny and Pepper. Her uncle had waited for the lunch crowd to leave, then called an impromptu staff meeting. The following morning she and Bobby were scheduled to meet with the manager of Mission Grove’s bank to add her name to the restaurant’s business account and her uncle’s personal accounts. Then she would be authorized to sign all accounts payable and payroll checks. His promise to transfer management of Stella’s was about to begin.

Bobby folded his hands together on the tabletop. “I’m sure you’re wondering why I want to talk to all of you together. And don’t look so scared, Danny. I’m not closing Stella’s.”

Greer’s gaze shifted to the veteran, seeing more than fright in his eyes. It was fear. What did he have to fear? That Bobby would fire him, and he’d have to give up the apartment? His eyes met hers and she gave him a smile she hoped would reassure him that nothing was going to change his current setup.

“What’s up, Bobby?” Pepper asked.

“Greer will be managing Stella’s, effective next week. I’m going to take some time to relax and take care of myself. Andrew gave me the name of someone who went to culinary school with him, and as soon as I check his paperwork, he’ll come onboard as Andrew’s assistant. I’ve gotten a few responses for a waitress from the ad I put in the paper, and I’ll be interviewing this weekend. If anyone here knows someone who’s old enough to serve alcohol, then please let me know now.” He paused. “Are there any questions?” There was a beat. “I guess that’s it.” Danny, Pepper and Andrew stood and walked away, while Bobby sat staring at Greer. “You look like the cat that swallowed the canary. Is there something you want to tell me?”

She chewed her lower lip. “I’m...I’m engaged to be married. But I don’t want you to say anything to anyone until we make it official.”

Propping an elbow on the table, Bobby pressed his fist to his mouth. “Who is he?” he asked after a full minute.

“Jason Cole.”

Bobby’s arm came down seemingly in slow motion. He waved his hand. “So that thing that went on between the two of you when you were singing wasn’t an act?”

“No, Uncle Bobby.”

“Do your folks know?”

“Yes.”

Picking up his chair, Bobby moved closer to Greer, resting an arm over her shoulders. “Congratulations, honey bunny,” he whispered. “Now are you going to take my advice?”

She held on to the large hand draped over her shoulder. “What’s that?”

“Stop chasing the bad guys.”

“I will after this last assignment.”

Bobby glared at her, the color suffusing his face indicating his rising anger. “What if this last assignment takes two years?”

Greer chewed the inside of her lip. “That’s not going to be a problem because I’m not in the line of fire. You know I’m just here as an observer. And whoever I’ve been sent here to ID will eventually show him- or herself. Mission Grove isn’t that large, and Stella’s is the local watering hole or hangout, so it’s just a matter of time before they’re going to show their hand.”

“And while you sit around and wait for someone to
show their hand,
you’re going to keep your husband in the dark about your
real
job.”

Nothing in Greer’s expression revealed her annoyance at her uncle accusatory tone. “When you were on your black ops missions, did you tell the women you were involved with about your
real
job? Or did you lead them to believe you were just another soldier fighting for freedom, justice and the American way?”

A network of lines fanned out around Bobby’s eyes. “You’re talking about Superman, honey bunny.”

“And you’re not?” she shot back. “It doesn’t matter whether you were a Green Beret, Army Ranger or a Navy SEAL. You all are Superman. And the same way you guys don’t go around advertising what you do also applies to me. Yes, I’m sleeping with Jason and I’ve accepted his wedding proposal, but until I become Mrs. Jason Cole, I can’t tell him what I am and who I work for.”

“I’m not telling you to compromise yourself, Greer. I want you to call your field office, and tell them to send someone to replace you because you’re getting married and you want out.”

“What you fail to understand is that I
don’t
want out. Not now.”

“Why the hell are you being so pigheaded, Greer?”

“Because I want to see this to the end,” she argued quietly. “I, too, want this to be the last assignment, but I’m also not a quitter. Because I’ll spend the rest of my life wondering, if I’d stayed, could I have prevented that person planning to sell a stolen firearm? The one that would eventually kill a child, mother or an innocent teenage boy standing on a street corner waiting for the light to change. I don’t want that on my conscience.”

“You’re only one ATF agent, Greer, and you alone can’t stop the proliferation of stolen guns. You’re not going to be able to change the world.”

“Please don’t preach to me about being one person, Bobby. What if Gandhi had felt that way? Or Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.? Think of the odds against President Lincoln when he tried to pass the Thirteenth Amendment to abolish slavery. Yes, I’m one person and a woman at that, but so was Rosa Parks and because she decided to confront Jim Crow face-to-face, the South was never the same. If I’m going to live in Mission Grove and raise my children here, then I want to make certain to give them a relatively safe environment. I’m not so naive that I believe we’ll ever eradicate illegal guns or drugs, but before I hand in my badge, I’m going to do everything I can to put the brakes on it.”

Leaning back in his chair, Bobby stared numbly at his niece. Even before she’d joined the ATF, they’d talked at length about what it meant to become a special agent—the intense physical and psychological training. The long hours spent in the field. The downside of being away from friends and family and the possibility of being reassigned thousands of miles from home. Greer had known that, and she had still submitted her application.

There were times when Bobby thought she was trying to prove to everyone that she wasn’t going to allow herself to be victimized again. The Hills had done a number on her head, and she’d unknowingly fallen into their carefully laid trap. Only those close to Larry and Greer knew they were dating; their engagement was a closely held secret as was their marriage. Two weeks after his son had married Greer in a private ceremony, Lawrence Hill Sr. announced his intention to run for senator of Maryland.

Bobby knew Jason Cole was as different from Greer’s first husband as night was from day. In the two years since Jason had moved in Bear Ridge Estates, Bobby had come to like the talented musician. Bobby had found him to be friendly, magnanimous and humble. Even when folks at Stella’s recognized Jason, he’d sign autographs or talk to those aspiring for a career in music. It was always an added bonus when he sat in with Doug’s band. Those are the nights when Stella’s was crowded to capacity. Customers referred to him as Stella’s Piano Man.

“Jason wants to live in Mission Grove permanently?”

Greer nodded. “Yes. I told him about you going into semiretirement, and I would eventually take over managing Stella’s and—”

“You’re not going to manage it. You’re going to own Stella’s.”

“That’s when he decided to live here,” Greer continued as if Bobby hadn’t interrupted her. “He’ll probably have to travel to Florida on business several times a year.”

“Have you set a date for the wedding?”

“No.” Greer told him she was living with Jason and, before the end of the year, they would decide on a date.

“Did he give you a ring?” Bobby asked.

Reaching under her sweater, she pulled out the ring hanging from a gold chain. “I don’t wear it when I’m working.”

Bobby cradled the ring in the palm of his hand. Illumination from the hanging light reflected off the large center stone. “Damn, girl. This must have cost him a grip!”

Greer didn’t want to tell her uncle that her eternity-style platinum wedding band with thirty-six baguette-shaped diamonds totaling four carats cost more than her engagement ring. “I tried on quite a few before deciding on this one.”

“It’s beautiful, honey bunny.”

“Thank you, Uncle Bobby.” She slipped the ring back under her sweater. Her uncle calling her his pet name meant his momentary fit of annoyance was over. “I’m going upstairs to use my computer to check in.”

Bobby caught her wrist. “What do you think of giving the employees a raise?”

Greer halted leaving. “Can you afford it?”

“I think so. I sat and did the computations. If we’re able to maintain the same number of customers on any given day, then charging the buffet’s fixed price means a 150 percent profit. Folks who usually come for lunch spend between six and seven dollars, but with a price-fixed buffet lunch, just say we charge ten-fifty for adults and half that for kids under twelve, then we’ll do quite nicely with the price difference. The price will include all you can eat, dessert and nonalcoholic beverages.”

“How much of a raise were you thinking about?”

“Between 8 and 10 percent.”

Greer smiled, nodding. “That sounds doable. I know you have an outside bookkeeper, but I’d like to see your books.”

“I was just going to suggest that. You know you’re going to start taking a salary.”

“I’ll do that once I give up my other job. Right now I’m living rent free and not spending any money for meals because I eat here. The only thing I buy is gas for Johnny B. Goode II, so I’m practically banking my paycheck.”

Bobby wanted to tell Greer that, when she married Jason, she would never want for anything because he’d been born not with a silver but a platinum spoon in his mouth. “Remember we have to go to the bank tomorrow so you can become an authorized signatory on the accounts.”

“And don’t you forget that I’m going to Virginia with Jason for his cousin’s wedding.”

Bobby patted her hand. “It’s a good sign when he brings you to a family wedding. Now that you’re engaged, I don’t want you working to closing. You need to get home and spend some time with your man.”

Her brow furrowed. “Who’s going to close?”

“I will. After all, I still live upstairs, and it’s no problem for me to come down and close out the registers and lock up the place.”

“What about Danny?” she asked.

“What about him?”

“Does he go out after you set the alarm?”

Bobby narrowed his eyes. “No.”

“How do you know?”

“Because he doesn’t know the code to the system to disarm it.”

“Just asking.”

Bobby shook his head. “Come on, Greer. What are you thinking? The last time you were ‘just asking,’ it had something to do with Chase. Has that changed?”

Greer knew she couldn’t repeat to her uncle the conversation she’d had with Chase without revealing what he did for a living. “Not really,” she lied smoothly. “I discovered people who lived outside the law are usually loners. Chase and Danny fit that profile.”

“I’ve seen a lot of men like Danny after they came back from Nam. They were mere shadows, almost ghosts of the men they’d been before they had to kill or be killed. And for a boy soldier, who’s not old enough to drink back in the States, it is even more traumatic than for a career soldier. I’ve seen career soldiers break after a while. If it hadn’t been for your aunt, I could’ve wound up a babbling idiot. I had nightmares for a long time, then one day they vanished. I’d lived with them for so long that I kept waiting for them to return.”